


Bones Under Skin

by thebeasknees



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Gen, Implied/Possible Bulimia, Past eating disorder, Slightly referenced friendship - Freeform, agetting better, alana beck - Freeform, pls be careful, recovering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeasknees/pseuds/thebeasknees
Summary: Alana Beck is getting better.
Relationships: Alana Beck and Everyone
Kudos: 8





	Bones Under Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Hey dudes! enjoy this fic my friend prompted me with lmao- read the tags and stay safe!:)

Alana Beck is getting better.

She looks down at the step in front of her, the numbers- 129 pounds.

She was close.

She was getting better.

She can look in the mirror without paying attention to the lines that scatter across her thighs, the the freckles and the backne and the very slight love handles- she can look in the mirror without feeling sick to her stomach.

She doesn't love it.

She doesn't love how bare she feels, and there's still that voice- judgemental, begging, pleading, asking her what she thinks she's doing.

That her thighs are getting thicker.

Her belly isn't looking as flat.

Her ribs aren't lightly poking out of her skin, and she knows that this is good for her but it doesn't feel right.

She still feels scared, to look at herself. She sees all the things she wish she didn't.

But she was getting better.

But her Mother..

Her Mother was complicated. 

Told her to eat more, _eat less, try this diet and that diet and drink more water and weight yourself and watch yourself with those sweets and-_

And it just never stopped.

Alana looks at the mirror. Thinks about how it won't take much. Thinks about how good it felt to be in control of herself.

Thinks about why she's even trying in the first place.

She felt itchy.

Alana falls to the floor and she crumbles down- every brick she's been trying to build is slowly crumbling, and she's not _strong_ , she never has been. She never _will_ be.

She doesn't want to be like this anymore.

She wishes she never listened in 4th grade, or in 5th, or in 6th when people said all the things they did. She wishes all of this, none of this happened. That she was normal and a good, healthy girl living a good healthy life.

She wishes she didn't _long_ to see her ribs poke out.

Alana Beck is getting better.

Alana Beck is trying.

Alana Beck is getting better.

She gets up. Wipes her tears and sits down on her bed.

She takes another bite from her sandwich.

She remembers how everyone told her how well she was doing so well, how they were so _proud_. How _everyone was so proud of her._

And as she remembers, the voice that's started to sound a lot more like her Mother everyday is slowly fading.

Alana Beck is trying.

She's getting better.


End file.
